Still shining at 60

At the end of "Tzima'on" ("Thirst"), Shlomo Artzi's next-to-last album to date, there is a hidden track that is not included in the CD's list of songs (anyway people don't always have the strength to deal with it; "Thirst" is one of Artzi's longer and not necessarily better albums). It is a song called "Birthdays" and in it, as is his wont, Artzi ponders the various stages in his life. He breaks it down into decades: At the beginning, he and his beloved are 20 and they celebrate, innocent and hungry for knowledge, by poring over a book by a Chinese sage. At age 30, they dance together in the living room. Ten years later, things start to get complicated: He describes how they went to a mind reader and someone who reads coffee leaves "to understand how to take care of ourselves until our 40th birthday."

Artzi was 52 when he recorded "Birthdays," but the age of 50 is not mentioned in the song. The next stage that is mentioned after age 40 is very far away: "We'll yet celebrate the 100th birthday in the field," he promises, no less. Until that happens (imagine the gala performance in Caesarea, with the elderly birthday boy parading on the stage in a pair of jeans), we will have to make do with a less monumental, but more realistic occasion - the one being marked these days as Artzi celebrates his 60th birthday.

At this watershed, Artzi is also celebrating 40 years of performing (and since he doesn't note this himself, it has to be noted for him). This is ostensibly a reason for public celebration - with radio specials and gala tributes and concerts - but it didn't happen. However, this is understandable: Celebrations of that kind are usually reserved for artists who are at the end of their careers, for musicians whose great contribution to Israeli culture is undisputed, but whose recent work may not be making waves. Artzi, whose contribution to our culture is indeed undisputed, is not among that group, of course. His current work - even if it often sounds recycled - still constitutes the hottest item on the music market.

When it comes to success and fans, there is nothing left to wish Artzi on his 60th birthday: He has achieved everything a musician could dream of, and the way it looks now, he has no intention of coming down from his Olympus any time soon. But what about the artistic element of his work? In this respect, there is actually something to wish Artzi: The last decade has been the least interesting decade in his career.

The singer's first decade - dating from when he started out through the end of the 1970s - was riveting. Artzi was searching for himself and didn't find what he's looking for; he then continued searching and still didn't find what he was looking for, and was a commercial failure. After even more fruitless searching, he almost gave up, but in the end achieved a breakthrough in 1978 and truly found his way.

The next decade produced his greatest albums: the wonderful "Ways" and "July August Heat." Artzi morphed overnight into one of Israel's most beloved and successful performers, even if he had not yet become the king of Caesarea. That happened in the third decade, when he totally redefined the scale of success for a local artist, as well as the intensity of love (and perhaps also of hatred) Israelis can have for one. Unlike the first three decades, which were very dynamic (for Artzi, for the public's attitude to him and/or for both), the last decade was more routine. Artzi released two mediocre studio albums ("Thirst" in 2002 and "Sane" in 2007); the critics trashed them, or in the best-case scenario remained indifferent. Israelis streamed en masse to the music stores and concerts, and a few hits were written that entered the Israeli soundtrack pantheon, albeit fewer than might have been expected from a full decade of creativity on the part of Artzi. Routine. A routine of wild success, but a routine, all the same.

Maybe it's too much to expect a superstar aged 60 to search for and recreate himself, but in the case of Artzi, such an expectation may not necessarily be outlandish. There still remains in him a seed of restlessness of some kind. His songs still have a certain unrestrained and no-holds-barred energy. Beyond the songs, Artzi is perhaps a sated artist, but within them, he is a hungry man; hungry for love, for sex, for a fast ride with the windows rolled down.

In his songs, Artzi's unrestrained talking, for better or worse, and all his candidness and mumbling and chatter - these all constitute a clear demand of his music: He asks for it to balance him, to give a measure of refinement, to place him in a framework that will provide him with logic, but without inhibiting his unconstrained nature. But it is here that Artzi has repeatedly failed in his last albums.

His melodies, for example. When "Sane" came out, I was favorably impressed by some of the songs, but on hearing them again this week, it turned out that what impressed me is the mere fact that several of the songs actually had defined melodies. Artzi can be talented composer; his repertoire has quite a few examples to prove this. But in recent years, he does not make an effort to compose beautiful music - or he does, but is not successful.

So one thing we can wish Artzi and his audience is for his melodies improve. It also would not hurt to rethink the matter of production. In his songs from the last decade, there is a problematic situation of both too much (an overload of instruments, and a sense of complexity and heaviness) and too little (a flat and outdated tone and bland playing). The key words for him today should be "to air out," "to be precise," "to minimize" - and also "to deepen." The operating instructions can be found in the same Chinese philosopher's book that "spoke" to Artzi when he was 20. Perhaps he should go back and read it from the perspective of his lofty age.

Late November 1949 was indeed an impressive and productive time in the history of Israeli music, for Matti Caspi was also born then, on November 30, four days after Artzi. So he's celebrating his 60th birthday today.

In Caspi's case, there actually will be celebrations: a concert in his honor was recently held at the Rishon Letzion Festival, and the radio also organized programs to mark the occasion. The same logic that renders celebrations for Artzi superfluous encourages celebrations for Caspi: There is that huge gap between Caspi's status as one of the greatest artists in the history of Israeli music - and the fact that his current works do not appear on the contemporary cultural radar.

Caspi's career is almost a mirror image of Artzi's career. In the 1970s, when Artzi was desperately seeking an identity and recognition, Caspi was almost omnipotent. He landed in the local musical scene when he was very young, but with a fully formed idea. He did not sound like anyone else, and he was listened to more than anyone else. He was the most brilliant composer, the most creative arranger, and of course, an outstanding singer.

But first of all, he was a composer. Two years ago, in a concert at the Piano Festival where Caspi performed songs from his first two albums, he related: "I had a lot of melodies then." This is the understatement of the century. An amazing abundance of perfect tunes popped out of Caspi's sleeve in the 1970s (or at least, that's how it sounded). It seemed that even he did not understand how far they would fly - to paraphrase "Heeneh, Heeneh" ("There it Goes Again"), which I feel is his most brilliant song.

They never resembled each other, Caspi's melodies; each was a world unto itself. But they came from the same unique source, which brought a new kind of beauty to Israeli music; a beauty with an intense color, identifiable and separate from the other colors. Other great musicians, such as Shalom Hanoch or Danny Sanderson created their work based on a clear connection to the musical revolution of the 1960s. Their songs were located at the intersection of the Nahal Brigade's entertainment troupe and the Beatles. Caspi came from a completely different place. If the Beatles had any kind of influence on him, it went through many powerful, personal filters.

It is possible that in real time there were crises and disappointments, but now, from a distance, it seems that the first decade of Caspi's work was dazzling and perfect. Everything he touched turned into gold. Even the 1980s were a productive and very creative decade for him, especially the first half of that decade. Caspi released a great album ("Sof Hayom" - "Twilight") and also produced fine albums for Meir Banai, Shlomo Gronich, Arik Sinai, Erez Halevy, Danny Robas and afterward for Riki Gal as well.

But in the mid-1980s, when Shlomo Artzi was starting his meteoric rise, Matti Caspi's golden age was approaching its end. He continued to produce wonderful tunes, but they become increasingly fewer. The last song he entered into the Israeli canon was "Hi Hazra B'tshuva" ("Lost in Faith"). That was 21 years ago. Even Caspi's ear for tone and texture became less precise. "Sof Hayom," released in 1981, is an ambitious album featuring many musicians and it sounds great; "Yalduti Hashniya" ("Second Childhood"), from 1985, is an ambitious album with many musicians that does not sound nearly as good.

At his peak, Caspi brilliantly combined the aesthetics of the guitar (beat, momentum, dry and focused timbre) and the aesthetic of the piano (vastness, astonishment, warm and emotional timbre). After the mid-1980s he started leaning clearly toward the piano, but did not give up the guitar. In his last album, "At Ha'isha Sheli" ("You Are My Woman," 2005), there are a few guitar-based songs. But as the album cover which depicts Caspi sitting beside a piano shows, his heart is closer to the keyboard and farther from the strings.

Over the last 20 years, the years of Shlomo Artzi's greatest success, Caspi retreated completely from center stage and released just three albums. The last two albums, evolving after his happy marriage to his second wife, Rachel, confirmed the axiom that says that the calmer and more content an artist's life is, the less interesting his music is. Caspi insisted on making those albums family albums, with songs in which his daughters starred. It was charming, and unnecessary, to the same extent. But, some of the songs, particularly "Haruzei Ahava" ("Love Rhymes"), from the last album, made it clear that Caspi is still capable of composing a beautiful melody.

Caspi also happens to be working on new songs and a new CD. One might suggest that he think about downplaying the family element, and perhaps also work with creative partners of some stature, but it is pointless: Caspi was always a lone wolf. Except for his collaboration with Gronich early in his career and his work together with Ehud Manor throughout his career, he has done everything completely on his own: "Melodies, arrangements, musical production and all instrumentals - by Matti Caspi."

So one does not hold one's breath in anticipation of the first album Caspi will release in his seventh decade, just as no one has held their breath in anticipation of a new song of his for over 20 years. The bottom line is, given his tremendous oeuvre, this is all rather negligible. There are good musicians, there are outstanding musicians, there are wonderful musicians and there are a select few who make the world a nicer place. The Americans have Stevie, and we have Matti. Mazal tov.